


All That Glitters Is Not Gold

by HackedTig



Series: Moicy Week 2019 [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Day 1 - Success/Failure, F/F, Moicy Week, Moicy Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21733057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HackedTig/pseuds/HackedTig
Summary: Moira deals with some heavy feelings regarding her current success as the Minister of Genetics in Oasis… But she can’t help but notice the lingering feeling that she once abandoned for this success… that claimed her failure as a person. Moicy Week 2019 Day 1 - Success/Failure
Relationships: Moira O'Deorain/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Series: Moicy Week 2019 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566388
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	All That Glitters Is Not Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Hi yes I'm Tig and we're taking a break from our regularly scheduled program (An Angel's Descent) for 2019 Moicy Week. Here's my first prompt, loosely inspired from Tah The Trickster's fic, Call Log. If yall haven't read it, its a MercyMaker fic. 
> 
> Anyhoo, please enjoy and there will be more to come :eyes:

She had never quite been one to really think about the past. Moira had a distinct distaste to her upbringing and her past with Overwatch. The restrictions she had placed upon her in her earlier years, in her thirties and then on, was something she rather not look back on. Not when she had all the acclaim in the world as a Minister. She had this position for a few months now, everyone knew her name, she was nodded to by others dressed in the same ornate robes. They had recognized her brilliance and what she had done with her technology. What she was willing to produce to the public, anyhow. 

They thought it astounding. True brilliance. She wanted nothing more than the fame and recognition that would come with others finally seeing things the way she did… how everyone was a piece to a puzzle… the genetic code a language seldom few could speak was a skill she prided herself on. It was her dream. 

And yet. Despite all the fame, the beautiful cover from her Talon work, the freedom to do as she pleased… It wasn’t enough. 

Moira thumbed the cell phone in her hands. It was scuffed and aged, obsolete by this time. She had a new one that she used when she kept hushed deals with Talon, or whenever she needed to ask Sombra a favor. That one was more modern, not a person would give her a second look with that one in her hands, seeing as it fit her high status. 

But this aged piece of plastic and glass. It meant so much more. 

Moira remembered keeping it charged for the first few months if only to open that one voice mail, over and over. The one Angela had left her in a fit of rage after realizing she had been abandoned. Left behind. Thought of as nothing more than a passing fancy. 

She had listened to it nearly every day, keeping her Angel’s sweet voice in mind, even if it started with her enraged. Screaming and cursing her out in Swiss, Moira only half-remembered what every bit of her insults meant by now. It had tapered to being an assault in English, broken up in sobs as Angela finally started openly crying over the receiver until it was nothing but pitiful cries and sobs. How Angela had hated her, after that very moment. 

Moira had achieved success in her sudden departure from Angela’s life, but by god had she failed. Failed as a human being to the only person who made her feel as such. Angela was so much more than a one night stand, or a fling held on by bait. 

That was, after all, why Moira had left her. 

She was waiting now, for the phone to charge enough to let her hear that voicemail again. It was an anniversary of some sort, or it was a few days ago. Moira remembered that much despite her busy schedule, her tests, her experiments in her lab, and deals with Talon for her technology. 

Finally, the screen lit up for her in a few hues of purple, before displaying the home screen. Not that she had ever let Angela see, but the background had been a picture of her in her Valkyrie Suit, from the first time she took flight. Her expression was hard to make out amongst the pixels, but she could remember it clear as day with only the little jog to it.

A familiar routine. Unlock the phone, go to the calling app, and open the only Voicemail she had- 

**NEW - Unkown Caller**

Moira raised an eyebrow in confusion. She had blocked every number she could have thought of. Except for Angela’s. She took a bit of a gamble, before pressing her finger to the new message. Might as well sate the curiosity before it got out of hand now. 

She put it to speakerphone, placing it on her desk as she reclined in her chair. 

For the first few seconds, the line was dead, but static was heard clearly. It told her that the caller was there, but hadn’t figured out what to say. Moira was going to lean and delete it before the words started. Her heart nearly stopped in its tracks. 

“ _I… I know you probably don't use this number anymore. I don’t even know why I’m calling._ ” Angela’s voice was heavy, almost as if she was half asleep. Her accent was thick, and the way she spoke told Moira she had spent a long day speaking her native tongue. The silence persisted for a moment before Angela seemed to sigh over the receiver. “ _No. That was… You and I both know that’s a lie. Deep down. I’ve spent the last seven years trying to hate you. Trying to forget what you’ve done to me, how you ruined me, encouraged me to become some sort of unkillable god. But you, Moira O’Deorain, make it extremely hard to hate you._ ” 

Moira bit her lip, leaning closer to her phone now. This was something deep, something broken. She kept careful tabs on Angela through the years, but hearing her, almost directly, tugged her. 

“ _You made such an impression on me. I wouldn’t be the woman I am today without you. Every attempt to forget you is met with resistance, and reminders of the times we did share. No one can compare to you. The way you made me feel. I… I suppose what I’m trying to say is, even after all this time, how you hurt and abandoned me… I still find it somewhere within myself to forgive you and love you. You always said I was too young and hopeful, and you wished I’d see the world as you did._ ” Angela paused, deeply sighing as she seemed to shift on her end of the line. The silence went for a few minutes, Moira bit her lip in anticipation for what she was going to say next… watching as the little bar moved. 

“ _Look. I know you must have received Winston’s recall message. You were part of Overwatch, even if you hated everything they did to prevent you from working. I just… the thought of you possibly answering made me react in ways I never thought I’d do again. Even if you don’t come back to help Winston and the rest save the world… I wish you’d come back to see me. So we can end this properly if that was what you really want… I need closure. Please. I want to stop loving you, but I can’t. Gods, how I cant… _” Angela hiccuped, she started crying. Actually, by the tone of her voice, Moira had guessed she had been crying for a while.__

__She picked up her phone, thumbing at the side of it as she saw the bar near the end of the line. All she could hear from then on were choked out sobs, muffled by the sound of what seemed to be a pillow. Wherever she was when she sent this, she was in bed._ _

__Finally, the line died, no words of goodbye or anything. A mere plea for condolence._ _

__Moira was never a person to cry. She hadn’t cried since she was but a child._ _

__She replayed the message, over and over as much as she could stand. By the time she had decided to stop, her face was wet with tears that burned. From how much she wiped at her face she could see the make-up she used to cover her scarred hand had smeared. How ironic, that Angela thought herself a monster._ _

__Angela had been made into the splitting image of an angel. It was Moira who had been turned into some malicious beast to prey on humanity._ _

__Finally, she shut her phone off, reclining in her chair as she folded her hands. The tears continued to pour, slight trickles down her face. How she had failed as a human being. As a lover. Angela Ziegler, the only woman she had ever truly loved, was so infatuated with her that even after seven years she was willing to find peace to this._ _

__That, Moira couldn’t even grant even if she wanted to. Here in her grand success as a scientist, a geneticist, building off the work her and Angela accumulated together… she had failed her angel. Talon would seek her out and take her prisoner, forcing her to share her science or destroying her brain to use what her body had become. That was a mountain she would never surmount, no matter how her ornate robes glittered or how many grants were cashed into her account._ _

__Angela would have to remain in the dark, loving her and hating her just as much as Moira loved her and hated herself in turn._ _

**Author's Note:**

> It's rly late at night but if i didn't write this one now it wasn't going to get done on time. :V Thank you guys for reading and comments/suggestions are always welcome.


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